Moonstones - cool to touch,

Unveiled by only the grace

Of the fine new moon...


Moonstones - glimmer fine

As an iridescent white

To veil the black blots...


Moonstones - smooth, gleaming -

I love to keep them than the

Caging wedding ring...


Moonstones - sea-polished -

I wish I were a moonstone -

Adored, but left free...


June 17th, 2010

A series of  Acrostic poems noting the healing properties of the crystals to the Zodiacal signs. .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Capricorn  ♑️  December 23-January 20.
~~~~~~~~
Capricornian don’t mind me. I can’t live as you.
As you have the highest of standards always.
Peridot,Garnets, Agate or Turquoise to wear
Ruby’s grace a  beautiful young maidens hair.
I see the jewels in your eyes when you smile
Carnelian stones or Malachite for soul healing
Or Jet ,Smokey Quartz or shiny Black Onyx.
Red Garnets,Blue Aragonite,Green Tourmaline
Nonsuch is the birth symbol ,graceful as thee
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aquarius ♒️  January 21 -February 19
~~~~~~~
Aquarius the symbolism for the water carrier.
Quite an important member of our community
Under spells by an association of the heart
Aquarian crystals are Garnets and Amethyst
Rainbow moonstone, Labradorite, Magnetite
I would buy thee Lithium Quartz ,Moss agate.
Under your care placing Crysoprase n Cryolite
Some Rainforest Jasper for love of this lady.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pisces ♓️  February 20 - March 20
~~~~~
Pisces are healed by birthstones of Amethyst
In tune also with Turquoise,Aquamarine,Amber
Sapphires,Sunstones,Smithsonite, Labradorite
Chrysoprase of green, Ocean Jasper, Flurite
Especially Bluelace Agate,Rainbow Moonstone
Stones Charolite, Calcite,Ametrine,Bloodstone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aries ♈️  March 21 -April 20
~~~~
Aries children tackle life head on.
Ruby,Diamond,Amethyst and bloodstone
I know she’s into Aquamarine and Tourmaline
Especially pink, Dravite aka Tourmaline brown
Stellerite, Sardonyx , Citrine, Kunzite n Axinite
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taurus ♉️  April 21 -May 21
~~~~~
Tourean girls have an inbuilt stubbornness
And are partial to the birthstone Sapphire
Understanding An Emerald and Aquamarine
Rhodonite, Amber,Lapis Lazuli and Tiger’s Eye
Universal faith in crystal’s Kayanite n Kunzite
Spiritually in tune with Carnelian

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Gemini ♊️ May 22 -June 21.
~~~~~
Gemini never grow up.They are so  flirtatious
Ever wooing and seducing their audiences
Moonstone,Agate,Aquamarine,Tigers Eye
Into the healing powers of Chrystoprase stone
Naturally Green Tourmaline and Serpentine
I also see Anyolite, Citrine,Thulite and Variscite
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cancer  ♋️  June 22 - July 23
~~~~~~
Cancerarians are high on the emotional scale.
And they benefit from Emeralds and Rubies
Natural Amber,Rhodonite ,Rainbow Moonstone
Chrysoprase,Carnelian, Citrine, Moss Agate.
Even with the beautiful crystal Fire Agate
Ruby stone and Pink Tourmaline healing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Leo ♌️  July 24- August 23
~~~
Leo has birthstones of Onyx, Peridot,Ruby,
Even Turquoise,Amber,Citrine,Larimar,Petalite
Or Fire Agate,Red Garnet,Sunstones,Sardonyx
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Virgo ♍️  August 24-September 23
~~~~
Virgo needs be a person advocating virginity
I know because I have fusion and experience.
Realistically fusing together two personalities
God knows n loves my approach and approves
Of Peridot,Carnelian, Blue Sapphire,Tourmaline
      Of Green ........
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Libra ♎️  September 24-October 23
~~~~
Libra uses healing properties of Lapis Lazuli
In Peridot,& Sapphires, Aquamarine stones
Bloodstones,Emerald stones, Sunstones,
Rainbow Moonstones, Morganite, Lepidolite
Aventurine,
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Scorpio ♏️  October 24- November 22.
~~~~~
Scorpio needs the healing of Aquamarine
Charolite, Turquoise, Malachite or Emerald
Obsidian Black , Golden Topaz and Boji Stone
Ruby, Lapis Lazuli,Green Tourmaline,Kunzite
Peridot , Rainbow Moonstone, Rhodochrosite.
I know of Variscite Hiddenite n Apache tears.
Or Herkimer Diamond ,Hiddenite , or Variscite
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sagittarius ♐️  November 23- December 22
~~~~~~~~~~
Sagittarius is so joyous and very fun loving
Amethyst,Turquoise,Lapis Lazuli n Blue Topaz
Grace her body with healing properties now.
I recommend Azurite stone, Blue lace Agate
Tourmaline pink, Malachite, n Yellow Sapphire
Topaz of white and beautiful Ruby Stones
A Zircon Crystal and Snowflake Obsidian
Rich Merlinite, Labralite ,Dioptase n Charolite
In these healing crystals wear them with faith
Understanding the powers the Universe grants
Sacred is the space that you take upon Earth.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written and inspired by Sacred Space.
Shop 10 /74-78 The Corso , Manly , 2095 NSW . Australia. Louise Winchester.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Written by Philip.
December 2018.
~~~~~~~~~~~~

You're a real comet boy
aren't you
everyone wants to call you a
shooting star
but you know you're just a
falling rock​
glittery and pretty boy
all bright and cheery
we all want to know if you light up
the dark
eyelashes cluttered
with star dust
​do you wear a crown
of broken moonstones?
​cracked and gorgeous
your beauty is your pain
oh,
so sad yet so pretty
comet boy
we all want to heal you
won't you let us heal you?

Libra ♎️
~~~~
Libra uses healing properties of Lapis Lazuli
In Peridot,& Sapphires, Aquamarine stones
Bloodstones,Emerald stones, Sunstones,
Rainbow Moonstones, Morganite, Lepidolite
Aventurine,GreenTourmaline,HerkimerDiamond
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~­~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip.
December 22nd 2018.

the sea murmurs of moonstones
and loneliness, every breath
the drowning dark,
every leaf of its emerald
tree, a whisper, a cry of
sorrow, a silver dream.

sometimes it feels as if
I have too many milk teeth,
too many parts of me that belong
to a time when I climbed trees to touch the sky
and I swam in sunflowers
and fireflies -
to a time I have long since
painted in sepia tones,
long since pushed
to the back of my mind
with hands so tired
of being filled with splinters
- too many seeds
and not enough light.

there are too many parts of me
that I have placed underneath pillows,
that I have kept behind closed lashes,
that I have slept upon, waiting
for the morning to arrive and them
to be g o n e ,
replaced with coins that I could place
underneath the tongues of the dreams
that I could not ferry to my
frail realities.
but in the morning, they return -
one by one into my mouth,
daring me to speak them,
daring me to sing,
daring me to find someone who will listen.
         listen.

it feels as if
I have too many stories,
too many secrets,
too many sins and not enough space
for the words to fly out of my mouth
and into the world -
I have too many milk teeth
that I cannot remove.

and sometimes I think maybe that's why
I don't understand
    permanence.
I don't understand
    change.
I don't understand
    growing up,
    growing out,
    growing apart -
I don't know what it means
to stare at the sun
while your feet are moving forward,
only forward, never back.
because I have spent all my life
climbing on the shoulders
of mountaintops and moonstones,
and standing tall
was never an option.

sometimes climbing is tough
when my mouth gets too heavy
with overgrown memories
and I can almost feel myself cry out
"save me," can hear myself whisper
    "listen."
but pride and false bravery sew me shut
and I'm left to watch my bones
taken over by page-pressed petals
and old phosphorescence -
and it's in moments like these
that I stop climbing and think
maybe it's time for me to grow now,
on my own:
hands and legs
and lungs and heart,
spine and ribs and
collarbones, cranium,
and with baby teeth bared I am
blooming fire and gold and
facing the sun -

    smiling.

let me taste your skin,
i want to eat your sin,
give me your ivory bones,
your eyeballs like moonstones.
                                 let me taste your skin,
                                 i want to eat your sin,
                                 give me your ivory bones,
                                 your eyeballs like moonstones.
                                                         let me taste your skin,
                                                         i want to eat your sin,
                                                         give me your ivory bones,
                                                         your eyeballs like moonstones.

i am a kolossus
i am your superfluous
are you my star?
je ne sais pas

I’ll chase you over
backwards and sideways

cover you in chocolate,
peel off your shell,
fill you with another body

I’ll eat you a rainbow
separate the opals,
moonstones,
malachite

love—little girl with scotch-brown hair
soft, eggshell yellow and
crack

oh god...

I'm sorry.

Pencils that write me in words that delight me and play fights through long nights with verses so light as to almost float away.
Then there's the day,
Where reality bites me in scenes quite unsightly and 'words don't come easy' among the dropouts and ****** of society,where poetry is not spoken but ripped off your tongues by the hopeless and broken and pledged in the pawn shop,
all we become as we become tokens to buy are the mute and the word blind,the cruel and the unkind and there's nothing to find here in the hearts of the lined men,
whose faces belie the truth that rockets inside them.
And some speak at times in riddles and rhymes but the words come out wrong because the days are so long and the alcohol's strong and nobody hears them,more silence from lined men,
when will it end?

Oh Babylon gone,
done for and taken and left us forsaken in this land of the prophets and the profits we take from the fakers and spivs,give us some sense of living in the land where no giving is easy and it's easier to take than to ask.
All hope has left on the last boat to Zion and those that are left have no shoulders to cry on,
but the lined men are here to take your last words,to write them on moonstones,the groans of destruction,construct your own melodies
as the blood in you freezes and the heating goes off
as we all do
at some time.

An Exercise in Love*
     ~for Jackson Allen*

My friend wears my scarf at his waist
I give him moonstones
He gives me shell & seaweeds
He comes from a distant city & I meet him
We will plant eggplants & celery together
He weaves me cloth

                   Many have brought the gifts
                   I use for his pleasure
                   silk, & green hills
                   & heron the color of dawn

My friend walks soft as a weaving on the wind
He backlights my dreams
He has built altars beside my bed
I awake in the smell of his hair & cannot remember
his name, or my own.

is it love
if you never loved me back
the butterflies in my stomach
were unmatched?

is it love
if i saw the gaze in your eyes
on the girl whose eyes were moonstones
and smile was the great wide ocean

is it love
if i built you a ship to her heart
from the wood of the forest in my soul?

is it love
when i lay at night no where near
asleep
wondering where my shortcomings were
or how i can fit her moonstones in my eyes

is it love
is it love
is it love
am i in love with you?

In the corner of my room
stands a desk,
a humble desk beside the window.
Upon the desk lies a tome,
open and inviting, that
leads me on a path I will continue.
At the lonely hours of the night,
I cross the threshold to strange
and seminal worlds,
illum'd by simple candle light.

In truth, the tome casts its own glow:
it gives me its glimmering gems of wisdom,
its waning Moonstones of inspiration
and the precious treasures
of knowledge that emerge from the
shadow!

My soul seeks these pearls of
grand vision; I seek to
enrich my view
of our whirling, protective sphere,
to unearth the subtle shades
and hidden layers of
Her verdant frontier.

From my solitary desk,
windows of crafted prose and
elaborate description open to
a world rich in
wondrous experience!
These pages are portals
of the exploration the mind, the
discovery of the heart, and a
spirit of enduring resilience.

From the pristine pages of
my beloved books rise
mountaintop vistas on
our multifaceted world,
our diverse history
and our creative power.

And the light flows to me and around
my lonely room.

Her soul is like lace
Her eyes are like blue moonstones
Shimmering from the bottom of a clear lake

Moon spilling through a cloud, east
Eyes locked in incense spirals
A lovelock of moonstones
Ideath worn proudly
ideath worn quietly
Someone on the other end
breathing and her
Something between
like a rod of tired wind
Silent wind

The type of wind that blows down
egos and
dreams
and all ambition
ideath and trout
and i and the letter


And somewhere behind it all
An inspired lover
drawing his lovers portrait
for the first time
in flowers
only
flowers

Throughout time
And space
And stardust,
There has been
A mystifying
Phenomenon
Where people lose themselves
Within their sins.

******* away
Into shards of glass and galaxies,
We are the disappearance of inhibitions,
And the birth of the notion
That love is unconditional.

Find me in the sunlight,
Find me in the starscape.
Lose me in the love of the night,
Lose me in the escape.

All that is good,
And all that is right,
Left me with moonstones for eyes,
And a missing piece of my heart.

But I've found it within you,
And I've found my light in the galaxy of your eyes.

We are of stardust,
And because of that
I only know of light,
Just remember that light can burn.

Go supernova
Within my soul,
Twilight reds
And midnight blues
Lead me back to you.

At sixty plus
       a series of scenes from a life past
       started flashing back...swaying,
       like soft organza curtains, giving
in to forces of the wind...blowing,

recalling...things that used to be,
       places, faces i no longer see,
       people i haven't met and long to meet,
       words i meant to say....but didn't,
       things i failed to do, but still meaning
       to, given fresh starts...it's tiring,
       counting "should haves," so i'm saying,
etcetera, etcetera.....the list is unending.

At past seventy,
       sunrises are lovely as ever...and bolder,
       sunset moments are quieter...and holier,
       old days seem nearer,
       with poetry-writing, the call is stronger
         while still dabbling in beads-making,
       designs pour over me, when stringing
moonstones, sodalite, and lapis lazuli.

I am in a different zone.
       when mixing poetry and natural stones
       to me, a word is a crystal, a gemstone
it's merely a word to some...a stone unknown.

I guess...at late seventies,
       i'll still be in white shirts and blue jeans,
       creating unique, interesting themes for poetry,
       say, a big bus with travelers, seated hesitatingly,
       or, finding a bright tunnel's end, serendipitously,
       or, unrepenting souls sinking deeper, regretfully,
more silly love poems?  i'd indulge willingly

my frame may turn fragile...i pray, not my poetry,
       not my judgment, nor my decision-making,
not my courage, especially, when i'm past eighty.


sally b

©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
June 18, 2021

the primordial landscape:
a raw, clay slab floating in cosmos
one simmering puddle on its surface
where ivory moonstones were plucked
and put into your mouth
forming your bright, brave teeth
anointing all your words with freedom
your mouth forever a vessel for healing

i think of you,
sitting like you always do,
legs spread too wide apart,
knuckles interlocked, as your fingers fidget with moonstones,
there’s a delicate kindness to you, with a curious edge

and now, you sit four feet up,
on a twin sized bed, hoodie over your head,
you only smile when you let out smoke,
when your fingers are rubbing together,
crushing down green remnants
or pressing down to light the tip.

sometimes, i think,
"does she know?"
when there’s no green to be passed around,
will you stay?
or will you follow, out the door, into the backseat of a car you’ve never been in before, with a driver you’ve never met?

i imagine you
hands decorated in silver
a throne for your half lit joint,
sitting around faces you don't know,
engaging in conversation you don't care for––
when you trudge back home and lock your door,
******* the silver from your skin,
warm water drips from your fingertips––
you say you can’t scrub vices off no matter how you try.
the indulgence fights the cold and speaks in seductive tongue.

four feet up, under covers, 13 minutes past two  
virtue appears beside your dresser,
it’s presence can’t be exorcised, though you’ve tried.
cursing its essence, condemning its existence––
yet to no avail–– you should know by now what happens when you defy your own nature.

-c.alejandra